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“Do you have any siblings, Henley?”
“No.”
He nods. “Is your biological father alive?”
“Yes.”
“Are you in contact with him?”
I pause, unsure how to answer this question. “Yes and no.”
Juliet
I sit on the floor of my living room and hold the remote up to the television as I skip through the channels.
No, no, no, no, no . . .
I let out a deep sigh. “Why is there nothing on television worth watching anymore?” I throw the remote onto the couch and lie back and look up at the ceiling.
It’s been a long week. No contact at all.
So close but so far.
The sky has fallen. The world is gray.
And Henley James doesn’t love me . . . just ask him, he’ll tell you.
I shouldn’t be this devastated. It was only two weeks. I should be over it by now, putting it down to a bad experience.
But that’s the thing: How do you casually dismiss an emotion that you have waited to feel for your entire life?
It wasn’t real for him, but it was so real for me.
Love in spectacular Technicolor, beautiful and raw.
Only it wasn’t.
I get a lump in my throat, and my stupid eyes well with tears. I hate that he hurt me, and more than that, I hate that I let him. I knew exactly what I was walking into, and yet I went all in anyway.
This is on me. My fault.
The logical part of my brain is angry, furious that he got away with the perfect crime. I remember us laughing and rolling around in the sheets, dancing naked in the kitchen at midnight.
He hooked me good. I took the bait hook, line, and sinker.
My poor pathetic heart keeps reminding me of his baggage and pleading with me to forgive him for running.
Go inside and fuck Mason. It will make you feel better.
I close my eyes at the memory of his hurtful words. How could he even say that? He obviously doesn’t respect me.
He never did.
I know what I need to do, but how do you forget someone who is so burned into your soul that they are all you can think about?
I lie on the floor and stare into space. I’ll let myself wallow in self-pity for a few more days, and then I’ll pick myself up and dust myself off. Just like the old saying goes, this too shall pass.
It’s been five days without him now. It’s going to get better soon . . .
